


Mistletoe Mischief Managed

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Boys Kissing, Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mistletoe, Mutual Pining, Romance, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 07:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13162653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: Harry is training to be an Auror and trying not to get distracted by Draco Malfoy and that pesky mistletoe that always seems to appear whenever they’re in the same room together.





	Mistletoe Mischief Managed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AWickedMemory (ReadyPlayerZero)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadyPlayerZero/gifts).



> Thank you to the mods for running this brilliant fest and for being so patient. It was so fun creating something for you, Awickedmemory. I hope you enjoy this little fic.

There are multiple problems with Draco Malfoy.

First, he’s entirely too attractive for his own good. It’s not that Harry spends all of his time ogling Malfoy, of course. That would be weird, because it’s Malfoy who enjoys using words like _arch nemesis_ and _mortal enemy_ when he’s talking about Harry. It’s just that somewhere between Draco being an annoying prat at Hogwarts and becoming an Unspeakable whose opinion Harry had started to grudgingly respect, Harry started to develop a thing for sharp, aristocratic features, high cheekbones and white-blond hair. He also started to appreciate just how good long legs and a lean backside look in exquisitely tailored Muggle suits from Saville Row. Malfoy really likes the word ‘bespoke’ and manages to use it whenever he can, together with ‘Italian leather’, ‘my father once told me—’ and ‘I don’t understand why everybody’s so obsessed with Harry Potter.’

The second problem with Malfoy, is that’s he’s everywhere. Harry’s a busy person. He’s always rushing around the Ministry, he’s trying to complete fast-track Auror training, he’s writing a column for the _Quibbler_ as a favour to Luna on the importance of keeping a well-maintained broom and he’s helping Hermione organise a charitable function for Thestral handlers. It’s not as if Draco isn’t busy, either. He’s close to finishing his final Unspeakable exams, he’s doing something top secret involving lots of books and hushed conversations with Hermione and he’s involved in endless committees, presumably in an effort to restore the Malfoy name. Yet somehow whenever Harry finds himself with a moment to breathe, Draco is always just _there_ giving Harry a smug look and behaving like a very annoying, very handsome, arse.

The third problem is that Malfoy bumps into Harry at the most inconvenient moments. He manages to smell fantastic, look perfectly coiffed and make Harry feel like he’s wearing one of his old pairs of jogging bottoms and holey socks. He seems to show up at the precise moment Harry’s just poured coffee down his shirt or when he’s slipped on some pumpkin juice in the Ministry atrium. For all of the awkward, toe-curling moments Harry has, Malfoy seems to be around for every single one of them.

Like today, when Harry must suffer the indignity of wearing a jumper with an elf on, whilst Draco looks as well put together as ever. They bump into one another just as Harry’s sneaking a piece of gingerbread and a cup of tea from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, who have a much finer biscuit selection than the Aurors.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Harry glares at Malfoy to try to make it look like he isn’t stealing gingerbread.

“Same as you, I expect.” Draco reaches around Harry and takes a piece of gingerbread from the biscuit tin, biting into it with a crunch. “The Unspeakables have a terrible biscuit selection.”

“Dawlish has been trying to get the Aurors to eat kale crisps.” Harry pulls a face. “It’s horrible.”

“Sounds it.” Draco shudders. He glances at Harry’s jumper, a smile tugging at his lips. “Love the outfit, Potter. Are you always so glamorous or is today a special occasion?”

Harry refuses to let Draco know he’s in any way wrong-footed by the unexpected encounter. If he has to stand a little too close for comfort and cast wandless, non-verbal spells to hide the flush in his cheeks, so be it. It’s _Malfoy_. Polite small talk shouldn’t be this intimidating or this hard. “Blame Shacklebolt. He decided the Aurors should wear holiday jumpers to collect some money for charity.”

Draco smirks his eyes flicking over the elf on Harry’s chest. “I hope they’re paying you handsomely for that monstrosity.”

“By all means feel free to make a contribution.” Harry glares at Draco and folds his arms over his chest. “Are you going to the Yule Ball?”

“Considering it.” Malfoy shrugs. He looks away from Harry, his eyes turned upwards. A strange expression crosses his face and he looks back at Harry, his gaze intense. “Mistletoe.”

“What?”

“Mistletoe,” Draco repeats. He points above Harry’s head. “I didn’t think they used mistletoe to decorate the Ministry. Not after all that scandal about extra-marital affairs.”

Harry swallows. “They don’t. Someone probably put it there as a joke.” He laughs, nervously. He’s obviously not thinking about kissing Draco because that would be ridiculous, but he’s also not entirely able to push the thought from his mind. “I should probably get rid of it. It could make things awkward for people.”

“It could,” Malfoy agrees. He’s standing awfully close and the heat of his body makes Harry warm all over. They stand nearly eye-to-eye. It would be so easy for Harry to tilt his head and lean in for a kiss. So easy for him to blame the mistletoe and festive madness. He’s not sure Draco would say no, because his cheeks are flushed, and he seems very focused on Harry’s lips. _Very_ focused.

“Harry!” With a clap on the shoulder, Ron yanks Harry away from Malfoy. “We need you in the meeting on the Smith case.”

“Got it.” Harry lets out a shaky breath, glancing at Draco who looks irritated. “See you around, Malfoy.”

“Potter. Weasley.” Draco gives them both a curt nod and strides off, his expensive brogues tapping on the polished floor.

“You’re welcome.” Ron gives Harry’s shoulder a squeeze. “I saw you chatting and thought you might like to be rescued.”

“Good thinking.” Harry forces a laugh and glances over his shoulder as he falls into step with Ron.

Neither Malfoy or the mistletoe are anywhere to be seen.

*

Harry’s had one pint of beer too many when he catches sight of Malfoy chatting to his friends in a large crowd on the other side of the Leaky.

“I didn’t know Malfoy was coming out tonight.” He yells at Hermione over the loud music. “Did you?”

“He said he might.” Hermione glances over and then elbows Harry. “You should go and say hello.”

“Why the bloody hell would I do that?” Harry rolls his eyes.

“Because I think you rather like him.” Hermione gives Harry a knowing grin. “Even if you’re still pretending to find him unbearable. If you ask me, I think he rather likes you, too.”

“I didn’t ask you, thanks all the same.” Harry gives Hermione a horrified look. “You’ve had too many mulled wines if you think Malfoy and me are anything other than—”

“Sworn enemies.” Draco claps a hand on Harry’s shoulder. The touch is light but it sends a shiver of pleasure through Harry’s body. He smells as crisp and fresh as ever and in a casual shirt and dark jeans he looks _good_. “Evening, Potter.”

“Evening, Malfoy.” Harry shifts over to make room for Draco, trying not to react to the heat which courses through him when their legs press together under the table. “Anything planned for the weekend?”

“Work, I expect.” Draco huffs, sounding aggravated by the prospect. “I’ve got a million and one things to do before Christmas. You?”

“I’ll be in the office on Saturday.” Harry rubs his forehead, already anticipating his hangover. “Paperwork. Shacklebolt’s going to fire me if I don’t start doing my filing.”

Malfoy snorts. “I highly doubt that.” He leans in to Harry, his breath warm against Harry’s cheek. “That mistletoe of yours is back.”

“It isn’t.” Harry swallows, and looks up. To his mortification, Draco’s right. Dangling above their heads is the same offensive sprig of mistletoe from before. He looks around to see if anyone else has noticed, but they’re all deep in conversation. “It wasn’t there before.”

“Are you sure?” Malfoy’s voice is smooth, and Harry shakes his head.

“No. I suppose it could have been.”

“Perhaps it’s magical mistletoe.” Draco sounds smug. “That can sometimes appear during the festive season when one person – say you, for example – is romantically interested in another person – say me, for example.”

Harry nearly splutters out his beer. “Perhaps it’s appearing because _you’re_ interested in _me_ , then. I’m not making any mistletoe, Malfoy. You wish.”

Draco bristles. “Well I’m certainly not, either. You wear appalling jumpers with elves on and you look as though you’ve never seen a decent hairdresser in your life.” He gives Harry a critical look. “Besides, I don’t even like you.”

“Well I definitely don’t like you.” Harry waves his hand in Draco’s direction. “You’re a posh twat and your clothes are ridiculous.”

Malfoy nudges Harry with his leg. “If by ridiculous you mean expensive and fashionable, yes, they are.”

“No. I mean stupid,” Harry mutters. His words lack any punch. He doesn’t really want to fight with Draco. He’s more concerned about the fact that – mistletoe or not – all the beers and the distracting heat of Draco’s body make Harry want to kiss Draco, not yell at him.

Harry pushes his way out of the small seats, waving a quick goodbye to his friends and goes outside where he can finally breathe again.

It’s an unexpected and not entirely welcome development, wanting to pounce on Draco in the middle of a crowded bar and snog him senseless.

Harry curses under his breath and begins to trudge home, his feet sliding on the ice.

*

“I thought you might want a coffee.”

“Thanks.” Harry looks up, surprised, as Draco comes into his office. “How did you know?”

“You mentioned you’d be working.” Draco’s cheeks turn a light pink. “If your head felt anything like mine this morning, I thought a dose of Pepper-Up might not be enough.”

“You thought right.” Harry takes the coffee with a grateful sigh. It’s perfect. Strong, milky and just sweet enough. He wonders when Malfoy worked out how Harry likes his coffee. 

“Gingerbread, too.” Draco gives Harry a quick smile and hands him a carefully wrapped piece of gingerbread. “This one came from Starbucks.”

“I’ve ordered a gingerbread house for the Muggle Artefacts Office.” Harry grins at Draco, biting into the gingerbread. “An anonymous donation.”

“You can’t even take a biscuit without being noble about it.” Draco rolls his eyes. “You know most of it will be eaten by Aurors and Unspeakables anyway.”

Harry laughs. “Probably. Still, it’s the thought that counts.”

Draco nods, his brow furrowing as he takes in the large book open on Harry’s desk. “I thought you were filing.”

“I got distracted.” Harry beckons Malfoy round to his side of the desk. “I found this cool defensive spell I’m pretty sure they didn’t teach us in Hogwarts and I haven’t come across it in Auror training. I thought it might be useful for the practical exams.”

“When do you take those?”

“February, so I’ve got a few months.” Harry swallows as Draco peruses the information about the spell. He’s suddenly aware of their proximity, with Draco leaning over Harry’s shoulder and his breath warm on Harry’s skin. It wouldn’t take much just to turn in the almost-circle of Malfoy’s arms and—

“You won’t believe this,” Draco murmurs. His voice sounds gruffer than usual.

“Hm?” Harry shakes himself from his daydream and turns as much as he can without getting even more intimate with Draco. “What’s that?”

“The mistletoe’s back.” Draco laughs, low and surprised. “Are you sure this isn’t you?”

“Don’t think so.” Harry holds his breath for a moment, as it waves in the air above their heads. “It’s not you?”

“No.” Malfoy shakes his head. His gaze drops to Harry’s lips. “Perhaps if we—it might—”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “We don’t have to snog or anything.”

“No.” Malfoy leans down and he captures Harry’s lips in a chaste kiss. His mouth is warm against Harry’s and even as he moves away, Harry wants to tug him back and kiss him soundly all over again to explore the heat of his mouth and the slender lines of his body.

“Has it gone?” Harry looks up as he asks the question. There’s no longer anything above his head. He’s almost disappointed not to have another excuse to kiss Draco. “Oh.”

Malfoy clears his throat. “Looks like it did the trick.” He sounds as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as Harry when he adds, “Probably not something we should repeat.”

“No.” Harry shakes his head. “Probably not.” He turns pointedly back to his book, disappointment rolling in his stomach. “Thanks for the coffee, Malfoy.”

“You’re welcome, Potter.”

It’s only when Harry’s quite sure Draco’s gone, that he touches his fingertips to his lips and allows himself a blissful moment of imagining how nice it would have been if that one, soft kiss, had become so much more.

*

The Yule Ball is packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing. Harry’s already lost Ron and Hermione to the dance floor and he can’t see his other friends anywhere. He taps his foot to the music, sipping on some mulled wine and watching as people dance around him.

“Potter.” 

“Evening.” Harry looks over at Malfoy. He looks as elegant as ever in tailored dress robes in a deep, midnight blue. The spun silver detailing on the robes adds a festive sparkle without being too ostentatious. Harry swallows, trying not to let his eyes linger for too long. He hasn’t seen Draco since their last, tentative kiss. The kiss Harry hasn’t been able to stop thinking about for the last five days. “I didn’t know you were coming. Hermione said you might have to work.”

“I changed my mind.” Draco shrugs. He looks up and he lets out a low huff of laughter. “That blasted mistletoe…”

Harry looks up and winces, when he sees the familiar sprig of mistletoe hanging breezily above his head. He can’t help but be concerned that the mistletoe is somehow his fault and the cheery green leaves and round white berries are a reminder of Harry’s pathetic – and most likely unreciprocated – interest in Malfoy. It’s mortifying. Completely mortifying. “I’m going to get some fresh air,” Harry mutters.

Without another word to Draco, he pushes through the crowds and tries to steady his racing heart.

*

“You’re an idiot.”

Harry turns when Draco approaches him, the moonlight accentuating his sharp features. “Cheers, Malfoy. You’re always such a delight to be around.” Harry rolls his eyes and turns back to look out at the vast grounds, leaning against the balcony railing. “I’m sorry about the mistletoe. I think it’s probably my fault.”

“You do?” Draco’s tone is light and careful. His shoulder brushes against Harry’s as he settles next to him. It’s very distracting.

“Yeah.” Harry takes a breath. “I can do wandless magic. Non-verbal too, sometimes. I’ve not actually done any magic without even thinking about it, but maybe I am this time.”

Draco snorts. “You’re not the only one who can do wandless magic, Potter. Did it ever occur to you _I_ might be doing it? You’re not the only one who can do magic, you know.”

“I never said I was.” Harry bristles. “I was just saying it’s more likely to be me, that’s all.”

“Because you’re so brilliant, I suppose?” Malfoy glares at Harry.

Harry grits his teeth. “No, you daft prat. Because I fancy you.”

“Oh.” Draco’s cheeks get flushed as he stares at Harry.

Harry groans and he turns back to look at the grounds. “Forget I said that. Just forget it.”

“I’d rather not.” Draco sounds curious. “Do you really?”

“I’ll get over it.” Harry shrugs. He glances at Draco, not missing his triumphant expression. “Go on, then. Have your fun with that information if you want.”

“I intend to.” Draco withdraws his wand and flicks it, murmuring a spell. “Starting with this.”

Harry looks up and blinks at the mistletoe handing above his head, twisting in the wind. “Wait…”

“Why do you think I kept pointing it out, you idiot?” Draco rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t _you_. It was me. I missed an important meeting and I was fifteen minutes late for a shopping trip with mother because I was trying to catch you under the mistletoe. You owe me several favours for that.”

Harry meets Draco’s eyes. He’s so handsome it takes Harry’s breath away. Anticipation curls in his belly and his whole body gets warm. 

“You couldn’t have just asked me out?”

Draco scowls. “ _You_ could have asked _me_ out. Then I wouldn’t have had to arse around with this stupid mistletoe idea which didn’t even work.”

Harry licks his lips and he shifts closer to Draco. “It did work, actually.”

“No, it didn’t. If it had worked properly we would be shagging by now.”

Harry laughs, the sound clear and bright against the quiet evening air. “You know mistletoe is for kissing, not shagging.”

Draco looks pleased with himself. “I’m fairly confident one would lead to the other rather quickly.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to ask you to fuck me because of a poncy piece of mistletoe or a kiss that felt like it came from Ron’s Aunt Muriel.”

Draco glares at Harry. “It did not.”

“It did a bit, actually.” Harry moves closer to Malfoy. “I’m going to need a bit more than that if you want to get to the shagging.”

Draco’s eyes linger on Harry’s lips and desire thrums through Harry’s veins, his whole body hot with it. “Is that a challenge?”

“Might be.” Harry pushes a hand into Draco’s hair, pulling him down just enough for their lips to connect in a kiss. This time there’s nothing remotely fleeting about it. Draco’s lips are cool from the winter air and Harry presses closer to him, sliding his hands over Draco’s robes and enjoying the feel of Draco’s body beneath his palms. The kiss deepens, with Draco pushing Harry back against the railings and taking charge, his hand fisting in Harry’s hair as he yanks off Harry’s glasses and holds them in his other hand.

“Merlin, we should have done this months ago.” Draco’s voice is rough as he mouths at Harry’s ear, his kisses sending all sorts of delicious feelings sparking through Harry’s body. 

“No more mistletoe,” Harry says. He pulls Draco close and relishes the feeling of their bodies pressed together. They fit together just right.

“No more mistletoe,” Draco agrees.

The stars twinkle in the midnight sky and the mistletoe above their heads shivers and pops. The disintegrated pieces turn into glitter which shimmers and shines as it falls around Harry and Draco with the first few flakes of December snow.

_~Fin~_


End file.
